


happens to the best of 'em

by fairysquadmother



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Comeplay, Daddy Kink, Jocks in Love, M/M, mentions of rimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 03:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6782710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairysquadmother/pseuds/fairysquadmother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whiskey definitely just needed to wash his clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	happens to the best of 'em

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by anon on tumblr: "You don't have to write it if you're uncomfortable/ don't want to, but here's a nsfw prompt for you: nurseydex (because there isn't enough porn for them) + kinks"
> 
> well, honey, you came to the right place for kinks. here's your nurseydex, with a hint of whiskeytango, and an open ending.
> 
> all characters belong to ngozi but thanks for givin' us such a good team

Of all the things Whiskey had ever learned in his adult life, one of the top five was to find a reliable, _private_  washer and dryer to launder his clothes in. He’d been a summer camp counselor for the past six years, and losing all clothes had become a sort of metaphor for how well he actually had his life together.

Eric Bittle, resident saint and source of Whiskey’s home-cooked sustenance solved his problem with a quickness. “Well shucks, doll, you can use ours! My only rules are that if you have an extra... _manly-_ smelling load, just throw a cup full of vinegar in there; it keeps the washer smelling proper. Also throw in a couple of bucks every other week for laundry soap. Fair?”

Whiskey blushed and ‘m-hm’ed’ and ‘yes, sir’ed until Bitty threatened to run him off with a wooden spoon for “bein’ such a proper young man, _Lord_.” Whiskey left him in the kitchen grumbling about disrespectful Yankees and their low expectations for manners.

Tango helped him haul his two laundry baskets to the Haus one day after class, Whiskey having already made sure every single man on the Samwell hockey team knew that before practice on Thursday, that washer and dryer were _his_.  
“Thanks, Tango,” Whiskey said, biting at his lip when Tango smiled dazzlingly and told him not to mention it. They might have kissed a little in the hallway, all illicit-like, even if this campus was literally dubbed ‘The Gay Ivy’. Whatever. If Whiskey’s dad ever caught him kissing a boy, he’d get disowned.  
Which, you know. Was why he was trying to get a respectable job. So he could kiss Tango and pay his own bills.

After Tango left to go and get ready for practice, Whiskey started separating his clothes into piles that needed to be washed Promptly (read: underwear, socks, gym shorts), and things that needed to be washed before he forgot about their existence and came to a point where he required their service but found them dirty because he’d totally forgotten to switch his laundry over, or worse, not washed them at all. His formal button downs taunted him from that pile, blue, grey, and black Hugo Boss shirts his father had bought him for Important College Events. Whiskey wrinkled his nose and threw them back in the basket. They’d be okay in the Haus. These dudes weren’t a bunch of basket-case kleptomaniacal childen of senators and government officials who stole Whiskey’s clothes because his father was the one who got half of them sent to the summer camp for Bored Rich Kids With Problems.  
He was all ready to throw the door open and start his first load in when he heard the unmistakable whimper of a bro getting _laid_. Because Whiskey was nosy and gay and wearing his last pair of clean underwear, he peeked through the crack in the door to investigate before he decided to run screaming to Bitty.  
Whiskey did _not_ expect to see Nursey sat on the running dryer, clinging to the pasty white shoulders of who Whiskey assumed to be the elusive, infamous Will Poindexter.

“Baby, shh, I got you,” Dex was saying, one of his big hands holding Nursey’s leg over his shoulder as he fucked into Nursey in deep, rolling thrusts. “You’re doin’ so good, Nursey, fuck. Anybody ever tell you how tight this pretty ass of yours is?”

Nursey got these worried little wrinkles on his forehead, like he couldn’t handle what Dex was saying to him, but the look in his eyes was so awed that Whiskey found himself wishing Nursey would say something back.  
He needed to leave. He needed to stop watching this, walk away, and do his laundry tomorrow. He’d gone commando before. 

“ _Daddy_ ,” Nursey whispered, like a prayer. “Daddy, daddy, I’ve been _so good_ , want you to get me all dirty with your cum, please?”

Whiskey almost swallowed his fucking tongue.

Dex’s hips stuttered a little, his glutes rippling as he obviously held off and kept himself from coming right there. Whiskey swallowed and shifted his weight, unable to keep himself from absorbing details. Nursey’s cock was leaking, red at the tip and drawing sticky, lazy patterns into the rack of his bare abs. Dex had freckles everywhere, even on the back of his calves. He was wearing solid black Chuck Taylors with his jeans around his ankles. Nursey was totally naked, showing off at least four more tattoos than Whiskey knew he had, the smallest one being right on the edge of his neatly trimmed pubes. Whiskey was 98.888889% sure they were Dex’s initials. 

Everything was going probably as smoothly as being a perverted peeping tom could be until Nursey met Whiskey’s eyes and _moaned_. 

Dex either didn’t care or didn’t even notice, just kept rolling his hips and murmuring against Nursey’s forehead about how gorgeous he looked. 

Nursey bloomed like some kind of sexual flower, laying back against the wall and letting himself be _fucked_. Whiskey followed the line of his chest down, eyelashes fluttering when he saw that Dex’s other hand had come to strip Nursey’s cock over in his spit-slick fist. “I want you to cum on me, Will, c’mon. Get me all messy, smelling like you at practice.” He smirked at Whiskey when Dex kissed the curve of his jawline and pulled out to jerk them both off together over Nursey’s stomach.

Whiskey’s chest was tightening. He worried at his bottom lip, restraining himself to keep from adjusting the totally embarrassing and obvious boner he was sporting. Gym shorts were not built to hide shame.

“Yeah, babe, _fuck_ ,” Dex growled, stripping off the condom and shooting off all over Nursey’s belly, all over that little tattoo and Nursey’s still-hard cock. “Jesus, Nurse, this was supposed to take ten minutes.”

Nursey scoffed back at him in response, hips bucking into Dex’s hand until he came too. “You cannot _seriously_ be blaming me when you took a solid ten just eating me out, Poindexter. Literally chill.” He pressed Dex’s palm into the mess on his belly, helping him spread the cum into his skin. “Mm, come here, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you didn’t kiss me near enough.”

“Possibly because I recently had the entirety of my tongue shoved up your rectum.”

“It’s when you say sweet shit like that, that I remember why I’m so deeply in love with you.”

Whiskey unfroze when Nursey looked at him again, eyes glazed over as Dex kissed him once, twice, three times in a row. The motion was practiced, loose and happy and cute. It felt like he was intruding on something, for the first time since he walked in on them. Nursey hopped off the dryer, giving Whiskey a little nod like _go on, kid, the show’s over._  

Dex was already tugging his jeans up by the time Whiskey scurried away to the kitchen, where Bitty was laying lattice for a cherry pie. 

“Did you need help figuring out the controls for the washer? I know Jack bought one of those fancy Maytag ones with all the bells and whistles-”

“I’m good, Bitty, thanks,” Whiskey said, cutting him off as quickly and nicely as possible. He could hear Nursey and Dex coming down the hallway, talking to each other at normal tones of voice now that they weren’t trying to keep quiet.

“Hey, Bits,” Dex greeted, crossing the kitchen to pull Bitty into a hug. “Are you...are you making me a cherry pie?”

Bitty rolled his eyes like that was the stupidest question anyone had ever asked him. “No, I’m just making it so it can sit in my windowsill until the wildlife carries it off.”

“Missed you too, Bitty.”

Nursey walked over, obviously amused at the deer-in-the-headlights look on Whiskey’s face. “Baby, this is one of the new Taddies. Whiskey, this is Dex. Pardon his manners, he doesn’t have any.”

Very pointedly, Dex turned to face Whiskey, and held out his hand to shake. “Will Poindexter. Looking forward to seeing how well you keep up with Bitty and Wicky. You’re the new winger, right?”

Knowing that this was the hand Dex had gotten Nursey and himself off with, then massaged a pool of cum into Nursey’s abs with, Whiskey’s eyes flickered over to Nursey, briefly. He took Dex's hand and shook it, smirking a little bit. “Yeah, yeah. Me and Tango are. It’s nice to finally have met you face-to-face. I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Nursey chortled a little bit. _Challenge accepted_ , Whiskey tried to convey with his eyes. 

He wondered if Tango liked foursomes.

**Author's Note:**

> those reviews really just get me goin' yknow  
> you can find me on tumblr at subparse thank you and good night


End file.
